Guns, Skydancer decided, should be banned. She wasn't any stranger to situations where injury was a possibility; being a gymnast had plenty of risks, but she didn't like the fact that she had no defense against bullets. At all. It was different choosing one's own risks as compared to being forcibly placed in the middle of a situation where the risk just sort of found you. If only she were able to actually form some sort of defense it might have been better, but as it was fleeing seemed like the only real option.

"You keep shooting and I won't drop you." The stress could be clearly heard in Skydancer's voice. "And if we survive this, you owe me that coffee." Seemed fair all things considered. Actually, he probably owed her a lot more than coffee if they survived and that if was definitely in question at that moment.

Skydancer heard the motorcycle down below but didn't have time to glance down at it. She could only hope that Thomas was able to keep the rider down there and prevent the two of them from getting shot as she made sure the scaled up the building and out of range of whoever was on the motorcycle. Her lower tube unraveled from from its initial anchor point and moved to an anchor point above them. Only a few more swings and they would make it to the top of the larger building.

"'If' dear? This may be the weirdest fight I've ever been in, but certainly not the worst." Though an angry leprechaun chucking cars made this easily the oddest fight of his life, it was nothing compared to the firefight he'd gotten into in Fallujah when he'd been part of an Apache crew picking up injured Marines. Then as now, he'd been the gunner being flung around while avoiding enemy ordinance. Then, it was RPGs and large bore rounds, now it was civics and slugs. Then he got shot at for duty and brotherhood, now for wealth and riches. 

It had taken a few moments, but he was beginning to get a feel for how she was swinging. He held his finger to the trigger, pulled just a bit, held his breath and waited for the zenith of her swing. At just the right moment he squeezed once, and hit the wheel of the driverless motorcycle. It spun out of control and crashed into a mailbox, as for the driver, he didn't see or know. 

But that's when the Civic hit the building and sent shrapnel flying in all directions. 

A piece of glass slipped along his forehead, it was small and left just a scratch. A piece of brick hit his thigh, sending jarring pain and leaving a large bruise. It was the piece of jagged metal, from where he didn't know, that found his shoulder and stayed there. 

It was six inches long, deep grey, twisted, and suddenly bloody. He reached for it and managed to cut his hand. He didn't scream so much as grunt. "For the coffee, if we live, I'll take you to Columbia."

Well, it was a relief to hear that Thomas had been in worse fights than this, if his words could be believed. Which was in serious doubt given the reasons they were currently in this mess. Instead of responding verbally she opted for an angry glare before reaching for her next handhold and swinging further up.

Just as it looked like the two of them might be close to being out of trouble the explosion happened. Because of course things could never be simple for Skydancer, something surely had to go wrong. The story of her life, making it 95% and then having the unforeseen occur and potentially ruin everything. Wonderful.

As much as she preferred not to swear, Skydancer couldn't restrain the string of swears as numerous small pieces of glass cut and embedded themselves into her flesh. Those weren't the problem, however, as those would heal just as soon as they were removed. The problem was the large piece of brick that collided with her left shoulder. Pain shot through it and she felt the tubes under her skin shatter and their shards embed themselves into her body. She almost lost her grip on her current handhold as the pain radiated from her shoulder.

“Get us to the roof!” Thomas said and he clamped down hard on his leg trying to stop the blood loss. The short Irish mutant was running towards them now and could be on them any moment. The pulsing pain in his shoulder made the briefcase in his hand heavier by the moment. If they could make it to the roof, that’d give them a chance to catch their breaths and avoid any more thrown cars.

As Skydancer struggled to pull herself forward, Thomas took a moment to consider and scan the field. The invisible woman was dangerous with her gun, but the immediate threat with the Irishman Stout. He was strong enough to chuck a van, and immune to gunfire. He could only assume that would leave him immune to Skydancers tentacles as well. He also took a moment to recognize that being held up by those tentacles was equal parts creepy and chafing.

Whatever shielded the Irishman, Thomas suddenly noticed, was clear. He took out one of his flash-bang grenades, removed the pin out with a quick well-practiced flick, and then lobbed it after taking a few seconds to aim. The grenade landed several feet ahead of the Irishman, bounced once, got within two feet of him, and then exploded. The man, caught off-guards, lost his footing and balance and ran head long into and through a brick wall. That was the problem with most mutants Thomas had ever met, sure, many were strong enough to pick up a car, blast a thug off his feet or fly or walk through walls, but they always let it go to their heads. Bullets, grenades and helicopters could still kill and maim nearly every mutant alive. “Focus girl, we’re gonna be fine, just keep us moving.”

“Get us to the roof!”

Now that was the kind of command that Skydancer was more than willing to follow. Gritting her teeth against the pain in her shoulder and trying desperately to push down the currents of fear running through her head, she wrapped a tube around yet another handhold in order to make it one step closer to the roof. She had been through a number of bad things since coming to the city, but this was by far the worst.

Another story and Skydancer finally made it to the roof. She dropped Thomas more roughly than intended, exhaustion and pain taking a heavy tole upon her. She knew she didn't have time to rest, not when there were still threats many stories below her. She knew that their assailants were mutants and might have powers they hadn't yet displayed that could mean they were still threats to the two of them, despite the distance. Even so, it was just so hard to get back up to her feet again.

“Focus girl, we’re gonna be fine, just keep us moving.”

Skydancer nodded and after one more valiant effort, finally made it to her feet again. Every time she moved her arm, shards from her tubes dug into her muscles and bones sending agony through the side of her body. "We need to get somewhere they can't follow. I don't know how much farther I can go." Her voice sounded so much more calm than she actually felt on the inside. Maybe that was what going into shock was like?